


as love carries its strength, but not its labels

by BeatrizCaelum



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of brotherly feelings and some dad stuff as well, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Dick and Damian are platonic soulmates and this is all very emotional ok, Gen, I write the conversations that should happen in canon, Plot what plot there's only dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 22:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17333654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeatrizCaelum/pseuds/BeatrizCaelum
Summary: Bruce is on a trip beyond Earth’s Solar System for longer than he intended, making Dick and Damian fall into an old pattern.“I'm not Batman.” A mere reminder, perhaps, but when said to Damian it always sounds like an apology.





	as love carries its strength, but not its labels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fishfingersandjellybabies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/gifts), [DawnsEternalLight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/gifts).



> hey, everyone, first fic in this fandom.
> 
> and hello Bee and Dawn. I'm not sure if you two will even see this. well, even though we've never spoken properly (I believe I sent each of you an anon ask on tumblr once??) and as of now I am a random person, I really wanted to gift this fic to you two!!! you two are my biggest inspirations when it comes to writing batfamily, especially Dick and Damian! I've read probably every single work you two have, so have this as a thank you, I hope you like it — if it's a bother in any way, please let me know <3
> 
> good reading, everyone! be aware of some errors most likely, as I'm not a native English speaker and your prepositions are hard.

When he asks Damian to hand him his uniform, the last thing he expects to feel on his fingertips is Batman's cape.

Dick is torn between staring down at it — as heavy as a starless night, one of the many Bruce owns, each meticulously folded by Alfred's hands in the Cave — and trying to make sense of the emotion burning its way out of Damian's eyes. They're _Robin’s_ eyes as of now, to be more precise, as his brother stands there ready to tame Gotham by himself if he has to, but Dick has more than enough practice seeing through the green mask; narrowed outline, no pupils, no irises, but something behind it is more fragile than it has ever been before, he can tell.

There is no way Damian would grab Bruce's suit by accident instead of Dick's — in fact, he would almost never do something that he hadn't intended beforehand and, even then, he'd find a way to turn the tides to his favor, achieving a better result than his original plan could. Adapting, growing wiser and more resilient at each struggle, physical or otherwise, eerily precise, that is him all over.

But the way Damian is now avoiding his questioning look is also so very much like him. _Aw, kid._

“You know a cape doesn't go well with my moves,” his smile is tentative. “Is this fashion advice?”

Damian’s rigid posture doesn't soften at the slightest, but his body does turn towards the Batmobile, as if to tell him to hurry up.

“Hey,” Dick calls,  “wait. Tell me what this is about.”

His body twitches to get rid of the weight that was never meant for him to bear in good circumstances. If he is ever to be Gotham's most emblematic hero yet again, it’d be at the expense of someone he loves, and Dick has had enough of that for more than a lifetime. So he lets the cape rest on a table side by side with the upper armor, their shades of black and gray mixing into a puddle of what will always be the Dark Knight’s signature colors, with a vibrant spot of yellow in the middle — the heart.

Home to a bat, Dick knows, but so much more.

Damian doesn’t cross his arms, he doesn’t, the movement too much of a giveaway. Instead, his shoulders arch back, his posture grows straighter at each heartbeat. What is there to hide behind such a stance, Dick doesn’t know yet, but he _was_ raised by the world’s greatest detective.

“We're patrolling, Grayson.” He says through clenched teeth, a gazing piercing its way through Dick’s body, one end to the other. “You surely don't plan on going wearing those _atrocious_ sweatpants of yours.”

Not sparing a single glance to the worn-out fabric of one of Superman’s most famous merchandise, he sighs and takes a moment to find the softest of timbres to his voice.

“Insulting my very comfortable clothes to avoid talking about the actual subject will get us nowhere,” he says. “I’m starting to worry about you.”

Damian clicks his tongue. “There's no matter to discuss other than our plan of action for tonight.”

“You just gave me _Batman's_ suit,” Dick points to it. “That’s something worth discussing.”

“Batman _is_ known for protecting this city, if you are not aware.”

_“Damian.”_

“Grayson.”

Dick runs a hand through his hair. What he has to say — what he thinks Damian needs to hear — speaks not only of reality, but rather the _possibility_ of legacies, which is not something that has ever been discussed lightly in their family. They fought for it once and, if the time comes, they’d fight once more, not for themselves, not even for Gotham, but for each other. _Let me go into the night so you don’t have to._

No matter who wears the cowl, though, they still go together, no one is spared, and everyone steps an inch closer to the end as their feet touch the rooftops.

“I'm not Batman.”

A mere reminder, perhaps, but when said to Damian it always sounds like an apology.

“You can be.” His breath is almost inaudible. “Again.”

Dick swallows. Hard. Damian has moved to face him, at least, so he does what his finger itch to do: he steps closer, hand midair, and a sigh of relief escapes his mouth when Damian allows him to take Robin’s mask off the second Dick dares to touch it.

“Let me see your eyes, kiddo.” Dick whispers into the night. “I’m not talking to Robin about Batman, I’m talking to _Damian_ about Batman.”

“There you have it,” he mumbles, green irises blinking rapidly, taking in the dim lights. “My eyes are the same as always, Grayson. Why such a pointless request?”

“Bruce is off planet just for a few more weeks with the Justice League,” he chooses to say. “The criminals know Batman isn't gone for real. I don’t have to step in.”

Dick does know that the mission is taking longer than anyone had intended, but that’s the catch to intergalactic diplomacy. It was _hell_ to convince Damian not to go when Bruce left almost a month ago. He only agreed to be left behind because each member of the League had come to their doorstep to promise him they’d protect his father at all costs; that he didn’t have to worry, it was politics, another kind of war completely, no danger whatsoever would come to Batman.

 _“And we can’t have Gotham without Batman and Robin at the same time, can we?”_ Diana had said. _“You’re responsible for the city now.”_

 _“I already was,”_ was the answer she got.

So Dick came to the Manor to help Robin, the rest of his family and the Birds of Prey take care of the Batmanless situation, settled in, watched Damian sulk for about a week before going back to normal and found himself quite happy to be home again.

Home _with_ _Damian_ he doesn’t need to say _,_ as there isn’t one without him.

“Batman is not ‘gone for real’, as you put it, because _you_ are here.” Damian says. “Unlike _Father.”_

There is a new sort of bursting-like shiver to Damian’s features. He’s giving in.  Dick closes his eyes. He knew something like this could come to light, he knew it the second he caught himself taking care of Damian as if Bruce had never returned.

“I'm here as _Nightwing._ That's how it's supposed to be. “ Dick sighs. “That's how I prefer it, to be honest.”

Damian’s sharp intake of breath is one of absolute heartbreak. “Well, Grayson, if being my partner isn't a pleasant experience, then perhaps _Drake_ should have stayed as Robin after all.”

“You know this isn’t true, you know I love being your partner.” He makes a motion to settle his hand on Damian’s shoulder, but the boy steps back, hiding a sniff behind a snarl.

“Don’t touch me right now!”

“Robin is yours, kid.” Dick is left to mumble. “Just like Batman is Bruce’s right now.”

“Father is not here,” he hisses. “I’m — I’m very aware that to let a mission like any other take the best of me is pathetic and unacceptable, but I can’t help it. It’s almost as if — almost as if Father has finally —”

Dick interrupts, “He didn’t _abandon_ you.”

“He wouldn't dare,” Damian’s voice cracks. “But it feels like he did, sometimes, even when he’s by my side.”

The second part is almost inaudible, but Dick catches it nonetheless. He’s once again awestruck by the very _miracle_ that is Damian being willing to talk about his emotions, even if it’s like this, small body trembling as the bats fly above their heads. He has made so, so much progress since they met.

He waits, for he knows what is to come.

“It felt just like this when you gave Batman away.”

“Batman was never mine.”

“But _I_ was yours, Richard.”

Dick’s heart misses a beat, and he’s suddenly too small for what he feels. Smaller than the boy in front of him, even.

“You still are,” he promises. “Regardless of what mask we wear at night.”

“Robin and Nightwing,” Damian seems to taste the words.

“Of course your name comes first,” he cracks a smile.

“Of course.”

“And you know it’s not a work thing, kid.” Dick says. “It’s a family thing.”

Damian bites his lower lip. “We haven’t been family for long, have we?”

Time is a disturbing aspect to them. Between so many misadventures, so many deaths, both real and fake ones, no one truly knows where they stand; mental age, physical age, body, soul, two birthdays for one person is too many, too much pain even for more than one lifetime.

“In theory,” Dick starts,  “Bruce would do anything to have had you with him since you were born. And I say _in theory_ because he's committed to having you and loving you as you exist _now_ , with every bit of your past. He wouldn't go back in time to watch another Damian grow under his care, as much as it hurts not to have seen you as a baby. He wants _you_.”

“Richard…”

 _“I_ want you.”

Damian’s gaze is now set to his boots and he finally, finally hugs himself. “It’s such a _miserable_ thing to feel so intensely.”

“It is, sometimes.” Dick agrees. “I think it has been at least two minutes since you told me not to touch you. Does it still stand?”

“Perhaps,” he mumbles. “Why?”

“Because I’m here to help you lift the weight of your miserable feelings if you’ll let me. If you want me.”

“I don’t — there’s no need to,” he stumbles. “Richard, I may look unsettled, but I’ll collect myself soon enough.”

Dick simply offers a hand. “Don’t you _want_ me to be here with you?”

Damian, all shrunken and tense, stares at his hand for about five seconds before pushing it away rather harshly and launching himself into his chest with a muffled, “Of course I do, you insufferable idiot.”

Dick’s heartbeat settles into a steadier melody, the pressure and warmth of Damian’s head like a homecoming. He wraps his arms around him, savoring how very much _alive_ is the gesture, the hug, the trust, the belonging. He is taller than the last time they hugged, Dick realizes with a pang of proud mixed with sadness, a bit stronger, but they still fit: a hand to unruly black hair in tender motions, then a chin resting on top of a head, then a gentle rocking back and forth to scare away deep-rooted nightmares.

“I apologize for my outburst,” he sniffs into Dick’s hoodie. “It won’t happen a —”

“It will happen as many times as it needs to happen,” he squeezes him. “I believe you do  know I’ll always remind you to feel what you feel.”

A moment of silence passes before Damian coughs. “The last weeks reminded me of a different time. A time that is long gone, but that I enjoyed quite a lot, despite its struggles.”

“I love working with you, too.” He moves to smile into Damian’s hair. “We’re still the best.”

“But not Batman and Robin.”

“No, not Batman and Robin.” Dick agrees. “But the suits aren’t all that there is to our partnership.”

“Partnership,” He repeats, almost distant. “That’s a way to put it, I suppose.”

It’s Dick time to sniff. “Not only partners. You’re my — well, you know.”

_“I don’t.”_

Dick doesn’t know how he finds his voice, “Damian...”

“I don’t mean to claim more than it’s actually mine,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I get what you mean.” He puts Damian at arm’s length, hands on each shoulder, to have a better look at this reddened face, quick to catch a few stray tears with his thumb.

“You do?”

He nods. “I know there's something to our relationship that is unique, a feeling — a fluctuation of feelings of brotherhood and parenthood that we only experience with each other. I know it's confusing at times, but it's not bad. _It's us.”_

“I do not see you the way I see Father,” Damian takes a deep breath, green eyes firmly locked into his own. “The difference is clear. But I’m afraid I don’t see you just like an older brother, either.”

“Since B got back from his little time adventure, I know we were going more towards _brothers_ territory. Well, at least I was trying to do that, to give B some space.” Dick sighs, “And it’s also true that sometimes I can’t help but see you as my own kid. It’s not fair to Bruce, and I’m sure he doesn’t miss it when it happens, but it is what it is.”

“I don’t think it’s a matter of _justice.”_

“You’re right.” Dick nods. “It’s a matter of devotion. Love.”

Damian smiles that little smile of his. “This is getting extremely _mushy,_ as you say it. Not sure if I’m able to bear this.”

“Ohhhh, no, you don’t get to escape now, young man.” Dick laughs. “We’re bonding now. You asked for it.”

“I really didn’t,” he rolls his eyes, but closes their distance again nonetheless. “It’s simply because you enjoy such antics.”

Dick hums, holding Damian close to his chest, because that’s where he should always be. “You’re getting more similar to me in that aspect.”

“I suppose so,” he agrees.”You’re not a bad influence. I _am_ glad to be Father’s son, but I wonder what I would be like if — well, hm, you understand what I’m trying to say.”

Dick finds his embarrassment both endearing and sad. He tries to soothe it with a kiss to Damian’s forehead and he knows he succeeded when his kid snuggles impossibly closer.

“I wonder about it, too. If for whatever reason in this life _I_ was the one that ended up as your bio parent, alongside Talia or anyone else.” He presses his lips again and again to the warm skin, pushing dark locks away. “But I doubt there's something in me of all people that could have helped bringing into existence someone as wonderful as you, kiddo.”

“ _Richard John Grayson._ ” Damian squeezes him to death. “Idiot. Don't say that ever again.”

“Welp, it’s true. Sue me. I’m a very doting big brother-dad.” He laughs and then pokes mercilessly at Damian’s belly. “But maybe if you _were_ my blood you would be more flexible, huh?”

Damian laughs as he jumps away from his reach, but not before answering the tickling with a hard pinch to Dick’s arm. “My abilities shall not be disrespected like that.”

There’s a glint of mischief to Damian’s eyes, a kind of happiness that is almost scandalous, and Dicks feels himself flying. They’ll be okay.

“You know what, mister flexibility? I got it!” He grins, wild. “I'm your Grayson figure. I'm the Richard of the relationship and you’re the Damian of the relationship. How does that sound?”

“I believe this conversation is over,” he decides. “One of us has to know when to stop.”

“Don’t be mean,” he pouts. “You can be the Richard if you want.”

That actually brings a _giggle_ out of Damian, that soon morphs into a ridiculous cover up cough, so child-like that Dick can’t help but laugh with his entire body.

“You absolute idiot, cease this behavior at once.”

“You say _idiot_ a lot when talking to me, you know.” He says, also between gasps. “One of these days I’m gonna get offended.”

Damian shakes his head, slowing composing himself into a more serious, almost stoic state of being, only to be surprised by a beeping noise coming from one of their comn links. Now more alert, aware of what they were about to do minutes earlier, they nod to each other and Damian puts on the Robin mask, but, before Dick can go look for his suit as well, the boy clear his throat and mouths a shy, _“_ Richard, wait.”

He watches with curiosity as a range of emotions flashes through Damian’s face. He then stands on his tiptoes to reach Dick’s neck, pulling him down so he can plant a gentle kiss on his cheek that feels like a _thank you for loving me._ Before Dick can fully process the gesture — it’s the first time Damian kisses him and he was _not_ ready for it —, he is left stumbling forward with a yelp as Damian uses his position to pull his hood over his face with a maniac laugh.

“I drive the Batmobile today,”  he hears the smirk in Damian’s voice as well as his run for the car.

 _“Brat,_ ” he wheezes. “I’m not dressed yet! Wait for me!”

Damian doesn’t wait at all, but Dick wouldn’t have him any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> this is not to underestimate Bruce and Damian's bond in any way. Bruce Wayne may be emotionally dumb sometimes but he is a good dad to each one of his kids, fight me.
> 
> i believe Damian is 13 here?? I don't care. I also don't care what Bruce is doing in space with the League. he's coming back with gifts, that's all I know.
> 
> I lovelovelovelove Dick and Damian's relationship so, so much. I have a soft spot for found family and parent-kid feelings, don't look at me. and yep I totally have more things planned for these two, there's a capeless au I'm working on, but I still have some Voltron stuff to do first. I believe Dick has a special place in Damian's heart, port brother, part parent, and that they navigate through these feelings as time passes.
> 
> tell me what you think!
> 
> and if you want to come talk to me on twitter or tumblr! https://twitter.com/ametista_bruta & http://holyhikari.tumblr.com


End file.
